


The Nature of Home

by Gilagwen



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Poetry, Indiana, Poetry, Random & Short, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilagwen/pseuds/Gilagwen
Summary: Just a short original poetry piece/short work about seasons changing





	The Nature of Home

The changing of seasons is a joyous time, although the releasing of the oppressive weight of summer heat, like a bird freed of its cage, is perhaps a personal favorite of mine. The change starts out slowly, the breeze gradually becoming chillier and the air crisper. The final dredges of summer slipping away like water droplets cascading over a waterfall, letting the refreshing cool of autumn seep into the world as if was a dessert in need of rain. The change is palpable to many in the very air they breathe, crisp air making its presence known in the lungs of people enjoying the newfound coolness. The leaves start to turn bright oranges, yellows, and reds as the days become shorter, painting the ground as if it was a blank canvas. Memories are made and stories are told best in the fall. 

Traveling to different places, flitting here and there like a leaf in the wind, is always a delight because of the changing of seasons. The ever present blue of the sky is a myriad of different shades, light and dark alight, as weather patterns and temperatures change. The fields of corn and soybeans a vibrant green, reaching skyward towards the sun as if they were a child reaching for their mother. Red-tailed hawks gracefully soar overhead the vast expanses of farmland in hopes of an easy meal in the form of a field mouse. Even though I have no connections to any of the fields’ owners, I cannot help but become saddened at the sight of swaths of corn fields under several inches of standing water. Knowing that the corn will all be dead soon because the rain may have stopped here, but not upstream of the river which is flooding the fields. Occasionally the rains flood the river so much that the roads next the fields must be closed because the old, one lane bridge is mostly submerged in the river it spans. The fierce pounding of rain eventually begins to let up and the world springs alive once more.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work that I've put on here!  
My tumblr is @gilagwen  
Although it has nothing to do with this piece


End file.
